Only page of title Fairly Easy
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With the sins of the bank and the men on his head;
When he musn't look black or indulge in a grin,
And thirty or forty men hate him like Sin --
I am moved to admit -- when the total is scored --
That it's just a bit off for the Boss-of-the-board.
I have battled a lot,
But my dream's never soared
To the lonely position of Boss-of-the-board.
Was a small man to see -- though a big man to cross --
We had nought to complain of -- except what we thought,
And the Boss didn't boss any more than he ought;
But the Union was booming, and Brotherhood soared,
So we hated like poison the Boss-of-the-board.
We could tolerate ‘hands' --
We respected the cook;
But the name of a Boss was a blot in our book.
Or, rather, Jim Duggan was ‘laying for' him!
His hate of Injustice and Greed was so deep
That his shearing grew rough -- and he ill-used the sheep.
And I fancied that Duggan his manliness lower'd
When he took off his shirt to the Boss-of-the-board,
For the Boss was ten stone,
And the shearer full-grown,
And he might have, they said, let the crawler alone.
Yet we knew in our hearts that the shearer was wrong.
And the crawler was plucky, it can't be denied,
For he had to fight Freedom and Justice beside,
But he came up so gamely, as often as floored,
That a blackleg stood up for the Boss-of-the-board!
And the fight was a sight,
And we pondered that night --
‘It's surprising how some of those blacklegs can fight!'
Of Jim Duggan came up like a lamb for his cheque,
Said the Boss, ‘Don't be childish! It's all past and gone;
I am short of good shearers. You'd _better_ stay on. '
And we fancied Jim Duggan _our_ dignity lower'd
When he stopped to oblige a damned Boss-of-the-board.
We said nothing to Jim,
For a joke might be grim,
And the subject, we saw, was distasteful to him.
And he favoured Big Duggan no more than the worst;
And when we'd cut out and the steamer came down --
With the hawkers and spielers -- to take us to town,
And we'd all got aboard, 'twas Jim Duggan, good Lord!
Who yelled for three cheers for the Boss-of-the-board.
'Twas a bit off, no doubt --
And with Freedom about --
But a lot is forgot when a shed is cut out.
And the curse of the Children of Light on his head,
He's apt to long sadly for sweetheart or wife,
And his views be inclined to the dark side of life.
The Truth must be spread and the Cause must be shored --
But it's just a bit rough on the Boss-of-the-board.
I am all for the Right,
But perhaps (out of sight)
As a son or a husband or father he's white.
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